Life never ceases to amaze me. I've been so caught up in it this past week or so, I haven't hardly even had the time to process it. Since I'm merely biding my time before Aiden wakes up, I'll try and give you guys a general overview.
First, last weekend I was a runway model for the first time, and it was SO fun. MY old roommate and one of my favorite people and closes friends, Casey Sue has finally launched her own line of clothing, and the weekend of the 5th was her first official show, which I had the opportunity and the pleasure of being in. You can check out the photos and clothes at www.CaseySueDesigns.com . I'm in a khaki dress, and don't forget to check out my hair, which I lovingly refer to as the ever-so-Paris Mull-Hawk. Oh yes.
So I get home from my fantabulous weekend as a fashonista to a messy house, which I immediately dive in a start cleaning. After a few hours, I FINALLY sit down for a break, and no less than 5 minutes later, Steve calls and says, "Um, I think I need to go to the hospital. " It turns out that there was a little kid on a bike in the skatepark (not allowed, for this specific reason) wasn't paying attention, and hit Steve dead on in the knee, essentialy scraping everything off of the bone and leaving a lovely little skin flap slightly larger than a golf ball, and about as thick. Gross. After two hours in the first ER (that's right, I said first one) they tell us it will be at least another4-5 hours, and they can't even give him a damn tylenol while he's oozing blood onto their white floor. Nice. My friend Kyle also comes in at this point with a group of people, and I learn later that night that his mother was thrown from a horse, hit her head on the pavement and never woke up. Crazy.
We decide to let them deal with Kyle's mom & family and the other roomful of people in the waiting room, and try somewhere else. We pull up to the next placewhich didn't let us in because it took too long to wheel him in, and we got there three minutes past admitting time. GRR. So the THIRD ER we go to we *finally* get some damn help, and after 7 hours and around 30 stitches (including 9 deep-tissue stitches.. *shudder*) later, I'm finally, finally on my way to some rest.
So two days after that, I get a call in the morning from Erin, Tara's sister and my good friend. She's crying, which isn't that much of an alarm, since both sisters cryat various and seemingly trivial things at times. She continues telling me how stressed she is, and I listen dutifully, offering advice and an ear as necessary. Then she says something about a knife and Tara.... oooh Aiden just woke up. Wow. I'll have to come back to the climax aftwer work, sorry. :)
